Dylan’s Redemption(25)

“POP, YOU CAME.” Jessie hugged him tight. “What are you doing here? I told you to take it easy.”

“Ah, darlin’, I wanted to be here for you. Just in case you needed me.”

“I’ll always need you.” She let go of Pop and went into Greg’s arms.

He kissed her temple and held her tight. For a moment, she leaned into him and took in his strength. Her friend and confidant, he knew everything about her father and Dylan. He’d been the one to get her to open up about how she’d landed in Solomon in the first place. He’d listened and helped her put things into perspective. He’d been with her when she had Hope and when she lost her.

“I see Sheriff McBride is here. Shall I kill him now, or wait until after the funeral?” Greg’s voice took on that dry tone he used when he made a joke but was really serious.

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Why not wait until after the funeral. Once they lower the old man into his dark, cold grave, we can send Dylan in after him. I can bury two for the price of one,” she quipped, not really feeling it. Dylan hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really. Yes, he left her without a second thought, and that hurt, but what his mother did was far worse.

“That brilliant mind is always working, J.T.” He cupped her face in his hands and gazed into her eyes. “Are you ready for this? Everyone’s staring at you. They want to know what happened and why you left.”

She put her hands on his arms and leaned her forehead against his chin. It never hurt to let someone love you, especially a good friend like Greg.

“I’m ready. It’s time to put the past to rest, along with Buddy Thompson.” Now that she’d come back to Fallbrook, she’d have to finish it one way or another.

She broke free from Greg and went to the preacher to ask him to begin the service. She’d made all the plans and didn’t care what anyone thought. Like everything else in her life, she’d do this her way.

The preacher called everyone’s attention to the graveside and they gathered around. No chairs; Jessie hadn’t planned for anyone but her, Brian, and Marilee to attend.

Dylan watched her with the two men, and the intimacy between her and the younger one. The older man looked on like a father watching his children. Dylan had a suspicion the two men were indeed father and son. He wondered how Jessie fit into their family. He had to know if he’d lost her to that man.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She stood beside the grave, her arms crossed under her breasts, face blank, eyes unfocused on the casket. No flowers. Nothing to pretty up this service. Her expression said it all. She was impatient to have the deed done.

The preacher said a silent prayer before looking up at those who had gathered to mourn the passing of Buddy Thompson. Clearing his throat, he spoke only a single sentence.

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

The preacher’s words penetrated the quiet group, and the silence in the cemetery took on a presence of its own. Everyone held a collective breath waiting to see what happened next.

Dylan smiled. Leave it to Jessie to get the last word and put her father in his place.

The preacher crossed himself, hung his head in another silent prayer, then turned to Brian and shook his hand. They spoke for a moment, the preacher probably offering his condolences. Next, he went to Jessie. No words exchanged, only an envelope and a handshake. Jessie had apparently been the one to pay for the preacher and the funeral.

She could afford it. She owned her own construction company. Last night, he sat in front of his office computer ferreting out every detail he could find about her. Or, rather, J. T. Langley. He didn’t know where she got the last name, but he’d find out. What he discovered amazed him. She’d earned a college degree in business. In addition to having two business licenses and her contracting license, she owned the thriving company. Once he discovered she owned Hope Construction, everything else fell into place. Most of the information he found was under the company name, not her new name, including a fleet of vehicles. She’d never been arrested or even gotten a speeding ticket.

He gathered facts and figures, but it still wasn’t enough. He wanted the details of her life, and only those could come from her. If she’d only talk to him. He wanted to know everything. Like why she’d called his mother to find him. Maybe today he’d get the answers.

If nothing else, he needed to say his piece. He’d thought he’d lost his chance when he believed she died. Now, he wanted to tell her how sorry he was for not knowing about Buddy. For leaving without saying goodbye.

For not being the kind of friend she’d been to him.